


Four Minutes

by fannishliss



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alexander Pierce has earned our loathing, Amor Vincit Omnia, Blow Jobs, Brock Rumlow didn't Die in a Fire but probably should have, Bucky and Steve share a love that conquers all, Hydra Programmming vs Steve's Mouth, Know your Brooklyn History, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Prostitution, Public Blow Jobs, Rape/Non-con Elements, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, The Winter Soldier is not made of steel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rumlow makes Steve service his Hydra goons, which Steve does with professional ease, the Asset doesn’t approve.<br/>AKA Steve’s magical healing mouth! and how he saves Bucky by sucking so well.  :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thirty-Six Dollars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867593) by [zetsubonna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/zetsubonna). 



> Inspired by Ameonna’s story “[Thirty-Six Dollars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1867593)” from which the introductory lines in italics are taken. Thanks so much for letting me veer your story off in another direction! :)

**title: Four minutes**  
author: fannishliss  
rating: NC 17  
warning: this story starts out Hydra Trash Party, non-con, but trust Steve and Bucky to burn down Hydra. :)  
pairing: Steve and a gang of faceless Hydra henchmen; Steve/Bucky

 

===

  
  
_Rumlow was feeling too annoyed to even want a second round. Come was dripping down Steve’s cheeks, glistening and getting sticky in his hair. There were even smears of it on his clothes- his jacket was ruined, it was all over his chest and the shoulders, a slowly cooling puddle on his stomach. He wasn’t broken, though, wasn’t even shaken._  
  
_“Maybe we should swap in the Asset for the last round,” he suggested. “Since you two seem to have a history.”_  
  
_The reaction that got was even more unexpected. Steve grinned at Rumlow. It was an ugly smile, frightening and feral, full of such quiet hate and bleakness that it didn’t belong on his wholesome, pretty face, even as brutalized and messy as it was looking at the moment._  
  
_“Don’t bother. It’d just be embarrassing for everybody,” he grated. “You guys take effort because kids these days are all cut. Relic like him? I could do it in four.”_  
  
_There was a crash against the other side of the glass, like someone had slammed a fist against it._  
  
Rumlow darted a look at the glass — what the fuck?  
  
Another booming crash, and the unbreakable glass of the one-way mirror trembled.  
   
Rumlow took a breath and tapped his com.  “Rollins— confirm prisoner status.”  
  
“Confirmed,” Rollins reported.  “Prisoners are contained.”  
  
Rumlow nodded and relaxed a little. He didn't want the Black Widow or Cap's other buddies breaking in unannounced.   “Allen, Fernandez— go find out what the hell is going on in the observation room and report back.  Chacon, go reinforce Rollins.”  
  
Chacon, who’d gone early and had his hand in his pants like he was considering round two, looked disappointed but immediately followed orders.  Allen and Fernandez took a moment to regroup from the porn show in front of them, then went out through the door that led to the observation room.  
  
“Sir, the Asset,” Allen reported over the com, “looks pretty agitated.”  
  
“Come again?” Rumlow asked.  On his knees, Rogers faltered for a moment.  Maybe this was the way to break him after all. “The Asset wants to fuck that sweet mouth?” he said, watching Rogers closely.  
  
“Uh,” Allen hesitated. Hydra agents were hard to spook. Most of them had seen and done terrible things for the Mission, but the Asset was so powerful, so blank, and so horribly abused on a regular basis, that it shook the nerves of even the hardest of them.  “Sir.  The Asset is poised against the glass, like, like he’s interested in the proceedings.”  
  
“Huh,” Rumlow laughed.  “Looks like we’re gonna test out that four minute theory of yours, Cap.”  
  
Steve’s dirty face remained unconcerned, his full red lips sinfully stretched around the cock of the twelfth guy, Brunstetter, bobbing his head like a whore. Rumlow hadn’t ever guessed Steve Rogers was such an enthusiastic cocksucker, but clearly he knew his way around dick.    
  
“Bring in the Asset,” Rumlow ordered.  This ought to be good.  
  
Steve swallowed Brunstetter down to the root just then, fucking his face into the guy’s crotch.  Brunstetter’s hips jerked forward as he arched helplessly against Steve, coming with a groan.  Rogers pulled off and spat, wiping his chin on his shoulder as best he could.    
  
“Fruit smoothie for breakfast, huh? That’s very considerate of you.” Rogers’s face was perfectly straight, but under the nasty gobs of come Rumlow could tell he was still smirking.  
  
The Asset loomed for a moment in the far doorway, a dark shape with a shiny arm and two eyes glittering from behind a lank fall of hair.  He wasn’t fully armored, just in his standard cargo pants, boots and a black t shirt.  
   
Rumlow had to hand it to Rogers.  Handcuffed and kneeling on the floor, filthy with a dozen men’s jizz, he took the entrance of every intelligence agent’s worst nightmare with admirable nerve. He knelt there, gaze level and fixed on the Asset, watching him stalk closer, trailed by the two men Rumlow had sent, his back, if anything, just a little straighter, his chin a little higher.  
  
Then he licked his lips and smiled. The hateful, brutal smile he’d turned on Rumlow was nothing to this — just as feral, but there was something more — desperation, rage, a crazy determination, and that reckless disregard for his own personal safety that Rumlow had always grudgingly admired in the Captain.  
  
Rogers was staring at the Asset like a starving man looks at a steak.  His eyes were dilated, his bruised and swollen lips slightly parted — he _wanted_. And fuck, it was hot as hell.  
  
Rumlow had the ghost of a thought that maybe it wasn’t a great plan to give Captain America exactly what he appeared to be craving with every ounce of his super soldier self — but by the time that thought crept across his brain, the Asset had crossed the room, and Cap’s face was buried in the Soldier’s crotch, nuzzling and kissing. He’d already undone the Asset’s belt with his teeth and he was quickly undoing the button fly of the thick black cargo pants, pulling each button hastily free with lips and tongue and moving quickly on to the next.  
  
Rumlow wasn’t even sure the Asset could perform this way.  He’d seen with his own eyes the strange dynamic between the Asset and Secretary Pierce, but he didn’t really know how far it went.  Pierce sometimes “briefed” the Asset in private, as though the Soldier weren’t Hydra’s most dangerous and volatile weapon; he was usually blank and docile fresh out of cryo, and Pierce would handle him gently as he led him away to be “prepped.”  Rumlow didn’t know what went on behind closed doors any better than anybody.  The Asset would emerge, hollow eyed and obedient, and Pierce with a glowing look of triumph, in the proper Hydra order of things.    
  
Now, there was an unexpected fire in the Asset’s stare.  Rumlow had been there when the Asset had claimed to recognize “the man on the bridge.” The phrase didn’t even make sense — the firefight on the bridge had primarily been between the Asset and the Black Widow — while the massive hand to hand between the two super soldiers had occurred on the ground.  Pierce had tried to talk the Asset through it, but it hadn’t worked — it was the only time Rumlow had ever seen Pierce lose control of the Soldier, backhanding him and ordering a wipe mid-mission. Now, Rumlow himself had brought them back together, and the Asset’s last wipe had been — shit — two, almost three days prior? With the rollout of Insight postponed on Fury’s request, followed by Secretary Pierce’s sudden disappearance, Hydra had been thrown into turmoil. Rumlow had been taken by surprise when Cap and his friends had rolled into their base at the Bank, but he’d handled the situation with superior manpower. As it were.  Rumlow laughed a little at the thought and turned his mind back to the show, which was starting to heat up.  
   
Rogers had the fly open now. He looked up at the Asset, blue eyes veiled behind thick dark lashes, and the Asset looked down at him, brow wrinkled a little.  
  
The Asset reached with his right hand and touched the nasty gobs crusted in Steve’s hair, frowning more deeply.  
  
Rogers pulled back and sank down further on his knees. Rumlow could’t believe his eyes when he saw Rogers kiss the scuffed toe of the Soldier’s boot, a weirdly chaste kiss.  He kissed the other boot as well, and then snaked his way back up, nuzzling against the Soldier’s legs with his cheeks and forehead.  
  
He leaned away again, kneeling tall and straight, looking up at the Asset.  He’d mostly cleaned the mess of spunk off his face by wiping it against the Soldier’s trousers.    
  
“Better?” he asked, looking up at the Asset.  
  
Rumlow was shocked to see a tiny nod from the Asset, who shouldn’t have been able to express any preferences.  
  
The Asset’s hand drifted back to Rogers’s cheek, caressing it lightly.  Rogers closed his eyes, just for a moment, and leaned in to the Soldier’s rough palm.    
  
“Hey!  We don’t have all day!” Rumlow shouted, trying to take back control of the scene.    
  
Rogers’s sardonic brow didn’t make Rumlow feel any better.  
  
“Four minutes,” Rogers said, looking up at the Asset, who stared down blankly.    
  
Then Rogers got to work, nuzzling into the Asset’s fly to find a cock that may as well not have existed for the past seventy years.  He licked and moaned like a pornstar, putting everything he had into it, and apparently with some result.  The sounds coming out of his mouth were now more muffled, the moans more throaty, his breaths loud through his nose as he sucked the Soldier to hardness.  
  
The Asset’s right hand was brushing against the Captain’s hair, making abrupt little gestures of stifled need, and every time he made contact, Rogers moaned louder, leaning into the touch like he was begging for it, until he finally had coaxed the Asset’s hand to the back of his head and was urging the Soldier to fuck into his mouth with every groan.    
  
The Asset’s fierce concentration was glued to the man at his feet, eyes dilated almost black, his own luscious mouth fallen open—Rumlow had to admit he’d thought about it, but the Asset wasn’t his personal toy — that had been Pierce’s prerogative.  The Asset didn’t make a sound — he was trained to silence, only ever screaming when they put him through the wipe — but he was panting, mouth open, teeth clenched, thrusting into Rogers’s mouth almost reluctantly, the right hand carding gently through the matted blond hair, gingerly holding onto the back of the man’s head as Steve swallowed him down.    
  
Rumlow began to feel he’d lost control of the situation.  The Asset was totally focused on the man at his feet — not on brutalizing and abusing him — but helplessly juttering his hips forward as Rogers loudly slurped him down, groaning and leaning into him with every muscle of that powerful body taut, hands in fists held back by the cuffs.  The Asset held his deadly metal arm a little behind him as his right hand convulsively but tenderly stroked Steve’s short blond hair.  
  
Rumlow absently double checked the time — three minutes and forty-five seconds.    He let out a mirthless chuckle, thinking that the Captain wasn’t going to make good on his claim.  
  
Then the motions of the two bodies into front of him slowed as Steve took the Soldier’s cock deep into his throat, groaning until the sound was choked off, and he swallowed repeatedly, eagerly fucking onto the cock in his mouth (in what Rumlow now recognized as Steve’s signature move), giving himself over and letting the Asset’s strong thighs support his shoulders.    
  
The Asset stilled and came, mouth open in a silent roar as he poured himself down Rogers’s throat, hand lightly cupped around the back of Rogers’s head, metal arm tight in a fist.  Rogers finished and slowly, lovingly, pulled off, licking the Asset clean and tucking him away like a pro. The Asset looked down. Rogers looked up.    
  
Rogers knelt there, shining with adoration. “Steve,” the Asset whispered.  
  
Rumlow felt a brief flash of panic, then Rogers was on his feet, turning his back to the Asset.  The Soldier’s metal hand seized the cuffs and with a mechanical whir, cracked them, freeing Steve’s hands. The Asset was a whirl of motion against the circle of men who’d been watching — all of whom had seen enough of his prowess to fall apart, completely terrified. Disorganized and panicking, they toppled in a hail of blows.  And though Rumlow prized himself on his quick reflexes and grace under pressure, the fury of Captain America was nothing to laugh at.  Rumlow had gone down when he took on Steve Rogers in the cramped quarters of the Triskelion elevator, and taking a kick to the chest, a punch to the jaw, another punch to the head, and one more kick to the back of his knee, he was going down again.  
  
As he fell, he saw Captain America and the Winter Soldier pressed back to back, assessing the room with grim confidence, moving together like two halves of one deadly whole.  
  
“Hail Hydra,” Rumlow whispered, and passed out.    
  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Ameonna for the awesome sandbox!  
> Thanks to everyone for the kudos!!  
> If you liked this one, you can find hundreds of my other stories right here on AO3 -- thanks AO3!!!


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